


A Different Kind of Mark

by EerieBarbarian



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blood, Blood Drinking, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, Dark Mark (Harry Potter), F/M, Harry's Gathering an Army, Light Ron Weasley Bashing, M/M, Ron Is Kind of an Ass, Ron is a Tattletale, WIP, face scars
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:34:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23272546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EerieBarbarian/pseuds/EerieBarbarian
Summary: Harry has changed and Hermione doesn't understand what he's up to. When Draco Malfoy is thrown into the mix things get even more confusing. Hermione thought she was done fighting, but how do you know when you're on the right side of a war?
Relationships: Brief Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Seamus Finnigan/Dean Thomas
Comments: 22
Kudos: 106





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time attempting a Dark Harry fic. I usually don't like them because they seem so out of character for Harry. So, I'm trying to make him have a good reason for doing the things that he does. I'm not sure where I'm going to take it yet. 
> 
> I do not own these characters. They belong to J.K. Rowling. I merely created the situation.

Harry was different after the war. They had all changed to some degree, but Harry seemed to have changed the most. He spent more time alone, isolating himself from his friends. He had broken things off with Ginny and refused to give anyone, including Ginny, a reason why. 

Hermione thought at first that it might just be depression. It seemed probable with the amount of loss he’d experienced in his young life. Ron told her to give him time, he’d be alright eventually. But as time went by, she noticed that he didn’t seem to be depressed. Just different. 

It was little things at first. Harry had never been one to spend an excessive amount of time in the library. But he was now often found in the library of Grimmauld Place, reading old dusty tomes. When Hermione asked him about the books, he’d get secretive and change the subject. She picked one up one evening when he’d gone to the kitchen and been shocked to see that it was a book on old, dark magic. 

He’d also started spending a lot of time researching his father’s family line. He had letters from Gringotts spread over his desk in the parlour. Each one giving information about the Potter family tree. Hermione had suspected that the Potter’s were related to the Peverell’s, but she hadn’t known for sure until she’d seen the verification letters from the goblins. 

She’d also noticed that he spent increasingly longer amounts of time with Kreacher. The elf had been kind to them since they’d given him Regulus Black’s locket, but now he seemed to be obsessing over Harry in a similar way. It started out with him overly fawning over Harry and how wonderful he was as a master. It changed when he started whispering things to Harry. A dark look would pass over Harry's face and he’d laugh with the elf. 

Harry’s anger, which had always gotten the better of him, also seemed to get worse. When they received the letters saying that they would be returning to Hogwart’s to finish their studies, Harry had flown into a rage. Hermione and Ron arrived to find several pieces of furniture in the parlour overturned. It appeared that the mess had been worse, but Kreacher was already cleaning it up when they’d gotten there.

She didn’t see much of Harry after that until Ron had dragged him out to get school supplies. He had grumbled and complained the entire time. A reporter from the Daily Prophet had approached him, quill in hand, already firing off questions. “Would you like an exclusive?” Harry asked, a strange glint in his eyes. The man had gotten excited and come closer to Harry. “Here’s something for your damned paper,” Harry hissed before waving his hand. The reporter fell backwards, holding his throat as if he couldn’t breathe. He flopped on the ground, gasping for breath. Harry stood over him, a cruel grin on his face. He released whatever spell he had held and crouched close to the reporter. “Stop asking me about the fucking war or I’ll make you regret it. Are we clear?” 

The man had nodded rapidly before scrambling to his feet and running off. “What was that about, mate?” Ron demanded. “I know they bug you, but that was entirely unnecessary.”

“I would have thought that my best friend would understand, but apparently I was wrong,” Harry huffed before he strode away into the crowd. 

The next time that Hermione saw him after that was on the Scarlet Express. She found him in a compartment alone, scowling out the window. “Harry,” she beamed. “I’ve sent you owls.” She sat across from him and noticed that he had changed more than she thought. 

“Yes, I know,” Harry muttered, still staring out the window. He looked a bit paler. His usually untidy hair was wilder than usual, looking as though he had run his fingers through it multiple times. “Kreacher brought me the letters.”

Hermione exhaled slowly. “Why haven’t you written back? I’ve been worried.” They had been through so much together. It felt odd having this distance between them. 

“I’ve been busy,” he said, sounding tired. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes and had to wonder if he was sleeping at all. He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, Hermione,” he finally looked at her. “I’m not trying to ignore you or push you away so please stop looking so hurt. I’ve found something that’s brilliant and I have to figure it out. It could change a lot of things for the better, but I need to make sure it’s right.” He reached out and took her hands. “I promise that I’ll fill you in when I can. Alright?”

“Are you sure that I can’t help you? You know that you can tell me anything, Harry? I’m always here for you,” Hermone tried to reassure him, squeezing his cold hands tightly. 

The door to the compartment opened and Ron stepped in. He stared at their joint hands, his face slowly turning more and more red. “So you’re going to pick him over me again, are you?”

“What are you talking about?” Hermione started, but Ron walked out before she could say anything else. She moved to stand, but Harry held her hands tighter and wouldn’t let her go.

“If you follow him now, he’ll be holding you back from everything you could be,” he spoke softly. His voice barely above a whisper. “Think about the way he reacts to things. He’s controlling and jealous. You and I have never been more than friends and look at how he behaves. And it’s not the first time. You forgave him once for abandoning you. Are you going to forgive him again so easily?”

She sat back into the seat and thought for a moment. Harry was right. Ron could blame the horcrux all he wanted, but there was no horcrux now and he was still being possessive and jealous. She would have to talk to him, but not right now. Right now, she needed to think. “Thank you, Harry.” She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, missing the wicked grin that spread over Harry’s face.


	2. A Surprise Meeting

Several weeks passed and they had all fallen into the rhythm of their course loads. Harry didn’t speak to many people. He spent most of his time studying or in the Restricted Section of the library. The returning eighth year students didn’t need passes since they were all of age and Harry used it to his advantage. Hermione had told Ron that they needed to take a break. She was tired of him being jealous and she had entirely too much work to do considering she was taking more classes than anyone else in their year. This had caused Ron to have a fit in the middle of their new common room and break things off with her entirely. 

“So you’re seriously picking him over me? Do you think he’s better than me? Or do you think you’re better than me?” He had stood then, raising his voice, “Is that why he broke it off with Ginny? How long have you too been sneaking around? Oh, poor dumb Ron won’t notice. Well, fuck you and him. You’re just a fame chasing whore like Rita said.” He’d been about to say more when a stinging jinx hit him. 

Hermione was rigid. Her wand gripped tightly in her shaking hand. But it wasn’t her that had cast against Ron. “I don’t know why you’d tolerate that, Granger,” a smooth, drawling voice said from behind her. “I don’t even talk to you like that and we don’t like each other. Maybe you should consider better company.” 

Ron stood and aimed a hex at Malfoy, Hermione raised her wand and silently deflected it. She barely had time to realise that she had protected Malfoy when Ron aimed another spell. She deflected several more, not having it in her to retaliate. Malfoy just stood there, sneering at Ron’s attacks as if he was bored. 

“This seems to be great fun, but Potter sent me to fetch you, Granger,” Malfoy said, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt as he stood there. “I would suggest that we get there post haste. He doesn’t like to wait.” 

This seemed to distract Ron from trying to attack Malfoy. “Why would Harry ask you to get her? Why would Harry ask you for anything?” Ron hissed.

“I believe that is my business, which makes it none of your concern, Weasley. Please carry on making a fool of yourself in front of everyone else when I’m gone,” Malfoy sneered as he turned and walked away. Hermione saw another spell fizzle against a protective charm at Malfoy’s back. “Even I don’t curse people behind their back, Weasley. That’s pathetic,” he said without turning around. “Come along, Granger.”

Hermione didn’t know if it was a trick or not, but Malfoy had just defended her. She’d rather face whatever he was up to than stay in Ron’s presence for a moment longer. 

He led her to a set of stairs she’d never paid much mind to. They descended into the castle, coming out in the dungeons. She’d never been in this part of the castle and it made her nervous to be here with Malfoy. Keeping her wand at the ready, she followed him into what appeared to be an abandoned classroom. Harry stood over the professor’s desk. He had papers and notes scattered across the top of it. 

“Harry?” she questioned softly. He looked up and smiled at her, looking more like his old self. “What are we doing here?”

“We are planning,” he said simply. He rifled through some papers and motioned for Malfoy to join him. 

“Planning what exactly?” Hermione asked.

“I’ve found the thing you asked about,” he said to Malfoy, ignoring her for the moment. He held out his hand. Malfoy rolled his sleeve up, exposing his dark mark. Harry used his wand to cut his own arm, drawing a gasp from Hermione. 

He let the blood drip onto the dark mark, hissing something to it in parseltongue. The mark appeared to be drinking his blood as the snake writhed around the skull before settling. 

Harry held his arm up to Malfoy’s mouth. “Are you truly loyal to me?” Harry hissed. 

“Of course, I am, My Lord,” Malfoy dipped his head and licked Harry’s blood. When he stood, his full lips were stained with blood. He leaned done, capturing Harry’s lips in a brief kiss. When they broke apart, they both licked Harry’s blood from their lips.

“Harry,” Hermione’s voice was quivering. “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”

Harry, flicked his wand, absently healing his arm. “I told you. We’re planning.” He walked over to her and took her hands. His were cold and made her shiver. His vibrant green eyes seemed to glow in the dimly lit classroom. “The ministry wants to use me as a weapon. Did you know that?” She shook her head. “They’ve been trying to enlist me into the aurors since the battle. According to the minister, I am the most feared wizard in all of England after defeating the Dark Lord. He also said that he greatly encouraged me to consider so that action wouldn’t be taken against me.” He handed her a letter with the ministry letterhead. “They threatened me if I don't fall in line like a good soldier.”

She read the letter quickly, getting angrier as she got to the end. “They can’t do that,” Hermione stood and paced the room as she read the letter again. 

“They can and they will,” Harry shrugged, leaning back against the desk. “The ministry has been allowed to run unchecked for entirely too long. I will not bow and fall in line as expected. They want me to be a weapon. They want me to be feared. I plan to give them exactly what they wished for.”

Hermione looked up from the letter. She glanced at the mark on Malfoy’s arm, “I won’t use dark magic, Harry.” 

“I would never expect you to do anything that you’re not comfortable with,” he said simply. Looking at Malfoy, he caressed his face. She wondered briefly how much time the two had been spending together. “I know Draco is with me. Are you?” 

“I’ve been with you from the first,” Hermione laughed humorlessly. “I’ll be with you through it now.” 

He smiled at her acceptance. “Arrange for the others to meet us here Saturday night,” he said to Draco. “Kreacher set this room up so that only we can find it so you’ll have to be with them to bring them in. Hermione and I will get the ones from our side that I think I can trust.”


	3. Gaining Support

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione watches as Harry gathers supporters for his cause.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mentions of serious facial scarring. 
> 
> Also, please forgive me for making Ron such an ass. It's important to my plot. I usually try to make him nicer.

Hermione sat with Harry at breakfast the following morning. She could see Ron glaring at them, but they both ignored him. She noticed Harry staring at Malfoy several times. They seemed to be having a conversation while across the room from one another. She was about to ask him when a shadow fell over her.

“Having breakfast with your new boyfriend, I see,” Ron grumbled. 

Harry sighed heavily, turning to glare in Ron’s direction. “Move along, Weasley. We’ve seen how you really feel and I don’t have time for it.”

“Weasley?” Ron huffed. “Everything we’ve been through together and now I’m Weasley to you?”

“Don’t act so offended. You put yourself here,” Harry scoffed. “This is no one’s fault but yours. When you grow up a bit, come find us to see if Hemione will forgive you. Now walk away.”

“I’ll walk away when I bloody well please!” Ron roared. 

Harry stood slowly. He placed his hands on the table, setting flat where everyone could see. Hermione felt the static of his magic as it charged the air around him. His usually bright eyes had gone flat and dark. He leaned over, looking Ron in the eyes. “I said walk away.” His voice was laced with venom and his tone had changed a bit. Looking up at Ron, Hermione saw that his eyes had glazed over. “Go take a dip in the lake to cool off,” Harry whispered dangerously. 

Ron turned and silently walked away. “I’m going to walk away,” he mumbled as he bumped Neville. “I need to cool down.” 

“Harry,” Hermione hissed, “What did you do?”

Harry just grinned. “I didn’t know if that would work,” he chuckled. Hermione shot him a dark look. “Calm down, Mione,” he tried to control his laughter. “I seriously didn’t think I could do that. You have to admit, it’s kind of impressive.”

“You’re an asshole,” she said in a flat tone. “But it is a little impressive.”

In the few classes they shared, Hermione watched as Harry spoke with several people. After their classes ended, Dean and Seamus caught up to her in the corridor as she headed to the common room. “Harry said we’re having a meeting in his room,” Dean told her as he walked beside her. “I’m not sure who else is coming, but he said you’d be there.”

“I’m not entirely certain either,” Hermione muttered. 

“Are you alright, though,” Seamus asked from Dean’s other side. “Ron was a right arse to you. I reckon ye shoulda slapped him. I would have.”

“I’m fine,” Hermione shrugged. “It’s over and I’d rather not talk about it, but thank you for asking if I’m okay.”

They lapsed into silence as they made their way through the common room. Ron was in a corner, glaring daggers at Hermione. “You just sat there and let him use an Unforgivable on me.”

“Can it Weasley,” Seamus growled. “Unless ye want ter try yer hand at defendin yerself against one a me bombardments? Ye’ll not be talkin to her that way any longer. Yea?”

Ron only scowled and leaned back into his chair. Hermione had to stifle a laugh when she saw that his hair was damp.

She knocked on Harry’s door and was startled when it opened immediately. Dennis Creevey smiled brightly at her and stepped aside so that they could enter. Cho Chang was leaning by the window while Luna braided a ribbon into her long, dark hair. Luna was humming an unfamiliar tune while she did it. Lavender eyed Hermione suspiciously, but she looked at everyone like that after being attacked by Greyback. Hermione fleetingly wondered how much magic it took for her to glamour her scars. 

Harry was once again huddled over his desk, rifling through papers. He seemed to have a system, but damned if Hermione could figure it out just by looking at it. He peered over his glasses at her before looking around at everyone else. “Glad to see you all could make it,” Harry said cheerily as he stepped around his desk to lean against it. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I’ve asked you here.” Everyone agreed except for Hermione. She had an idea as to what Harry was up to. “I’ve asked you all to come because I trust you. Yes, there are other people that I trust, but not when it comes to something this important.

We have all been personally affected by the tragedy of a war we didn’t want any part of. When Voldemort infiltrated the Ministry, no one openly questioned the Muggleborn registry. No one stood up for you to say that it wasn’t right. No one stood up to stand between you and the people that should keep you safe. No one tried to protect you.”

“You did, Harry,” Dennis spoke up. Dean and Seamus agreed. “You stood up for us when everyone else was afraid.”

“And I would do it again,” Harry agreed. “Because it’s the right thing to do.” He looked at Lavender. She wouldn’t meet his eyes until he walked over and took her hand, pulling her to her feet. “Do you know what the Ministry is doing to our classmate?” he asked the others. Even Hermione didn’t know what he was talking about this time. “Would you like to tell them?” He spoke softly to Lavender.

She appeared to be nervous as she looked away, but she straightened her spine and looked at those gathered around her. “Can you show them?” she asked Harry, her voice shaking just a little. He nodded and ran a hand down her face and across her neck. Deep scars appeared on her face and neck. Some of the deeper ones were still the pale pink of newly healed flesh. She looked at each person so that they’d have to see her face. Her right eye was clouded over, several long slashes trailed down from where her eyebrow had been to over her chin. “They registered me to be monitored,” she hissed. “I almost died fighting for what I thought was right and they want to keep me in check. They sent me a letter,” her voice cracked and she took a deep breath. Harry took her hand and squeezed. Gaining strength from his support, she looked up again. Tears rimmed her good eye as she stared at them. “They called me a creature. I’m a fucking war hero and they called me a creature!” she shrieked. 

Hermione was appalled, but not entirely surprised. The Ministry had done the same thing to Remus. She watched as Harry caressed Lavender’s face and neck again. His magic easily returning her face to it’s previous beauty. She rubbed her left arm when Harry touched her and Hermione saw the swirl of a mark before she tugged her sleeve down. 

“Cho,” Harry spoke suddenly, startling the dark haired girl out of her thoughts. She mumbled what sounded like ‘I can’t’ and started to cry. Harry nodded. “Cho’s father is a Pureblood wizard. He was the accountant for most of the older Pureblood families. The Malfoy’s, the Parkinson’s, and several others. He is currently in Azkaban awaiting trial. This man had no knowledge of what happened inside those families. He was not a death eater. He was just trying to provide for his family and they locked him away until he gives them answers that he does not possess. Is that justice?” Harry looked at them all. “No,” he shook his head. “No, it’s not.

I’m tired of playing by their rules. I’m tired of being used as a pawn in a game that no one gave me the rules to. When the powers that be take advantage of the people they are supposed to protect, someone has to take a stand.” He looked at each of them in turn, “Who’s willing?”

“I’ll stand with you, Harry,” Lavender said without hesitation. Harry smiled kindly at her and placed his palm on her face. She turned her head and kissed the palm of his hand. 

“I’m definitely with you, Harry,” Dennis said. “If Colin were still here, he’d be with you, too.”

“I have no doubt about that, Dennis,” Harry turned and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Colin was a great person and I didn’t deserve his friendship.” 

Seamus and Dean looked at each other. Seamus nodded and Dean reached out to take Harry’s hand, “We’re with you.” 

Harry looked at Luna and Cho. Cho had wiped her tears away and was nodding. Luna surprisingly shook her head no. “I know you’ll do what you need to, Harry,” she spoke, her soft voice wrapping around the room. “But I’m afraid that I can’t help you with it. I’ll never condone murder. Even if it’s for a good reason.”

Harry chuckled. “Luna, I’d never ask you to murder anyone.” He raised his hands in a placating gesture. “All I need from you is to make sure that your father’s paper continues printing the truth. Not the lies that the Ministry feeds the Prophet.”

“That is a thing that I am willing to do for you, Harry Potter.”


	4. Gaining the Trust of the Snakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes with Harry to meet with the Slytherins.

Hermione fidgeted in her seat as she waited for the headmistress. Harry, who was seated beside her, just looked bored. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets and was casually leaning back in his seat. Professor McGonagall finally entered through a side door with Ron trailing behind her. 

“Mr. Potter,” she scowled at Harry until he sat up properly. “Mr. Weasley has brought forth serious allegations against you. This is extremely distressing since you two have always been so close. He says that you used the Imperius curse on him.”

“I most certainly did not,” Harry scoffed. He pulled his wand from his pocket and held it out to McGonagall. “Check it yourself.”

Ron made a move to protest, but she shot him a quelling look that effectively silenced him. She performed a quick spell to reveal the last few spells cast with the wand. There were only a few that could easily be explained by the courses he was taking. “Mr. Weasley, I’m sorry,” she said softly. 

“He didn’t use his wand,” Ron protested.

“Mr. Weasley,” Professor McGonagall reasoned, “You can’t honestly expect me to believe that an eighteen year old cast an Unforgivable without using his wand? We all know Mr. Potter is talented but even the Dark Lord needed a wand for the big spells.”

“I’m telling you what I know, Professor,” Ron exclaimed. “Why else would I have jumped in the damned lake?”

“Mr. Weasley!” she scolded. “You will watch your language.” She looked at Hermione. “Ms. Granger, did you see Mr. Potter cast any spell at Mr. Weasley?”

“No, Professor,” Hermione answered honestly. 

“Are you willing to drink Veritaserum to prove that you are telling the truth?”

“Yes, Professor,” Hermione responded. 

“You two may go,” McGonagall sighed. “Have a seat Mr. Weasley so that we can get to the bottom of this.”

As they left the headmistress’s office, Hermione started to head back to the common room. Harry tapped her elbow and nodded the other direction. “We’re meeting the others. It’s Saturday. Remember?”

He strolled off towards the dungeons as if he had all the time in the world. Hermione followed, easily matching his pace. “I can’t believe he told her. Did he really think anyone would believe that you’d Imperius anyone, let alone him?”

“I’m not surprised at all actually,” Harry sighed. “I’ve been waiting for Ron to turn on me since the Triwizard Tournament. If he turned his back on me that easily then, it was only a matter of time before it happened again.” He glanced at Hermione and smiled. “You’re the only one that’s always been there for me. You’ve never given up on me.” 

“Of course not, Harry,” Hermione gave him a sad smile. “We’re family.”

She followed behind him as he entered the abandoned classroom. Lavender sat alone at the back of the classroom, Seamus and Dean were near her with Cho beside them. Several Slytherins were arguing with Malfoy in hushed tones on the other side of the room. When Harry walked in, they went silent. Malfoy looked relieved to see him and immediately crossed the room to Harry’s side. 

Harry hugged him briefly, allowing a chaste kiss before leaning against the desk. Malfoy stood behind it on one side and motioned for Hermione to join him. 

“It was my understanding that we would be meeting with someone that actually cared about what we’ve been through, but I see that we were misled,” hissed Blaise Zabini. He pushed off of the wall that he had been leaning against and moved to leave the room. 

“You are free to leave if you wish, but you won’t be welcome back once you turn your back on me,” Harry spoke casually. “I do care about what you’ve been through. If you give me a few moments, I can show you that we are all on the same side.”

“I doubt it, but feel free to try,” Blaise huffed.

Hermione looked to see which Slytherins had joined them. She saw Zabini, Parkinson, Goyle, and Nott. Millicent Bulstrode was sitting a bit away from everyone else, looking unsure as to whether she wanted to be here or not. 

Harry stepped away from the desk, and looked between the two groups of students. He motioned to the empty space between them all. “This is the problem,” he said pointing deliberately at the empty space now. “We are all separated. Do you know why?”

Most of those gathered shrugged or mumbled, but only Lavender spoke up, “Because we were lied to.”

“Exactly. I was told from my first day at Hogwart’s that you Slytherins were evil. Not to be trusted. Every witch or wizard that ever went bad came from Slytherin.” He held his hands up as they started to protest. “I know now that I was misinformed. We were all misled about who you all are as people. And, you,” he gestured to the group of Slytherins, “You were young and excited to go away to school and make friends. And you were met with hostility and fear. So you grew to resent us and we all grew to hate each other.

Then Voldemort comes along and we’re all just doing what the adults in our lives told us to do. Whether from fear or loyalty or blood pride. And you were made to choose between your classmates and your family. No one should be expected to fight their parents. Their brothers or sisters. You were treated like prisoners because you didn’t want to fight the people you loved. 

Now here we all are. We’ve literally been through hell and the system that’s in place to keep us safe is telling us that we have to be monitored. That we’re not to be trusted. Well, I say that they’re not to be trusted.”

“And how do we know that we can trust you, Potter?” Parkinson stepped forward. “Our parents told us that we should trust in the Dark Lord and now my sister is dead and my mother is insane with grief. My father is in Azkaban and I have to report once a week to prove that I’m not cavorting with dark wizards. Why should I trust you?”

“Because it’s your choice,” Harry stated firmly. “I’m giving you a choice. You can walk out of this room and never look at me again. That is fine. I will not hold that against you. Or you can stand with me. And I will prevail. I will make the Ministry wish they had never crossed me. I will do everything in my power to ensure that we are all treated in a way that is fair and just.”

“How do we know you’re strong enough?” Nott asked quietly. “The Ministry is full of powerful witches and wizards. We’re just a handful of kids that haven’t finished school.”

Harry sighed dramatically. Malfoy stepped forward and rubbed the back of Harry’s neck briefly before extending his hand. With a flick of his wrist, a desk lifted up and slammed into the wall at the back of the classroom. He balled his fist and it crushed in on itself. “We were taught to respond to shows of strength and power, Harry. Not pretty words. Even if they are true,” Malfoy touched Harry’s hand as he walked back to stand beside Hermione.

“How did you do that?” Parkinson asked in disbelief. “You’ve never been able to cast wandless.”

He looked to Harry who waved his hand to carry on. Pulling back his sleeve, he showed his housemates his changed Mark. “Harry claimed my Mark as his own and now I can connect to levels of magic that I never dreamed possible.”

“That’s all well and good for you, Blaise, and Goyle,” Parkinson huffed. “But what about those of us without the Mark.”

Harry motioned to Lavender. She stood and walked over to the Slytherins. Pulling her sleeve up, Hermione saw a Mark that differed from the Dark Mark. Lavender’s Mark was still a skull, but the snake was coming out of the eye socket and going into the other in what seemed to be an endless loop. She pressed the snake and the skull opened it’s mouth in a silent scream. When it screamed, Seamus and Dean rubbed their forearms and shivered. 

“So can you cast wandless, as well?” Nott asked her.

“I have other needs for her unique abilities,” Harry spoke softly. “Each person that takes my mark will have their natural abilities enhanced. I can’t guarantee what it will be until after I speak to the Mark.” 

After several moments of silence, Parkinson stepped towards Harry. “I get to choose?” she asked quietly. 

“The choice is yours and yours alone,” he shrugged. 

“I choose to follow you,” she rolled up her sleeve and held her bare arm out to Harry. 

“Since you don’t already have a Mark, this will hurt a bit,” he looked her in the eyes as he spoke. She nodded for him to go ahead. He gripped her arm and started chanting a spell Hermione had never heard. She felt magic stirring in the musty air, the smell of singed flesh permeated the room. Sweat started to trickle down Parkinson’s forehead as she struggled not to scream. Harry finally removed his hand. He caught her as she fell forward and held her steady. Her breathing was rapid and harsh, but she hadn’t screamed and Harry looked proud of her as he wiped her brow and whispered to her. 

She was still leaning into him when he opened his own arm to feed his blood to her Mark. She watched as the snake writhed in the blood, drinking it as Harry spoke to it in Parseltongue. Hermione could hear it hissing back before curling into the skull to continue it’s circle. Parkinson giggled as she watched the macabre sight, “You gave me a vampire snake.” Harry chuckled with her as he healed his arm. He held his hand up to her face, his blood staining his palm. Parkinson didn’t hesitate to press her lips to his hand, gaining his favor. 

As Parkinson stood on her own, Hermione saw the other Slytherins step forward. They were already rolling up their sleeves. Only Zabini and Goyle were Marked, but the others were willing even after seeing how hard it had been for Parkinson. Harry looked triumphant as he gestured for them to come forward.


	5. Agreeing to a Small Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pansy corners Hermione in the library and talks her into a shopping trip. 
> 
> Not gonna lie. This chapter is a little bit of filler to push the plot where I want it.

Several weeks passed quickly. Hermione was absorbed in her studies and didn’t see Harry often. He would sit with her to study occasionally, but she was spending more time with Theo than anyone else at the moment. He was the only one that seemed as focused on his grades as she was. 

She was in the library when Pansy approached her. The dark haired girl perched in the chair across from her, strumming her fingers on the table. “Can I help you, Pansy?”

“Not at all,” she grinned devilishly across the table. 

“Then why exactly are you here?”

“Because I can help you, darling,” Pansy smirked. Hermione had learned quickly that Slytherins required patience. She had grown used to her fellow Gryffindors just saying what they wanted or needed. Slytherins, on the other hand, were not often so straightforward. They seemed to enjoy playing a game and if you didn’t know the rules already, you never would. 

“How exactly can you help me?” Hermione tried desperately to refrain from rolling her eyes. If she showed her annoyance, Pansy would never let her get back to studying. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” Pansy leaned forward as if she held a huge secret. Now that Hermione had gotten to know her, she knew that the girl probably did know some huge secrets. She kept them and dealt them like currency. “You should join me shopping in Hogsmeade.”

“And how exactly does that help me?” Hermione stated, her tone dry and growing bored.

“It’s mutually beneficial, darling,” Pansy waved her hand delicately through the air as if she was waving away Hermione’s concerns. “If I’m seen with you, it will improve my reputation and show that I’m behaving.”

“And again, how does this help me?”

“You’ll be shopping with me,” Pansy gestured to herself. “We are doing revolutionary things, my dear. You are in desperate need of a wardrobe change. You can’t lead us if you don’t look the part.”

“I’m not leading you,” Hermione scoffed. “Harry is.”

“And you and Draco are his most trusted lieutenants,” Pansy said, rolling her eyes. “Harry has gained the respect of our constituents. You, not so much. You look like a librarian.” She barreled on as Hermione objected. “You’re a lovely librarian, darling, but you need to look like you mean business when we have meetings. Draco is coordinating meetings with the vampires and goblins over the Christmas holidays to see about them joining our cause. If you want them to respect you, you need to look like you deserve it.”

Hermione thought about what Pansy was saying. Looking down at her comfortable clothing, she decided that the other girl had a point. She could definitely use something sturdier. Muggle clothing didn’t hold up well to magic. And while she loved her jeans and t-shirts, she could use something a little nicer for meetings so that she didn’t feel so underdressed. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

Pansy clapped her hands, gaining a scowl from Madam Pince. “That’s wonderful. We’ll go Friday after class so that you’ll be ready for Saturday’s meeting.”


	6. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets a makeover and Harry discusses his plans with his followers.

Hermione was exhausted. After a full day’s worth of schoolwork, Pansy had pulled her into several shops in Hogsmeade that she’d surprisingly never been too. She was made to try on things that she would have never considered and found that she was actually comfortable in most of it. The fabrics were sturdy, but lightweight. Durable, but with the ability to flow and move freely. She was pleased until she saw the price tags. 

“Pansy, I can’t get all of this,” she whispered as she saw the pile the other girl had accumulated for her. “It’s too much.”

“I’d say it’s barely a decent start considering what you started with.”

“No,” Hermione turned her to look in her face. “It costs too much. I don’t have a massive account at Gringotts. I can’t afford this.”

“Oh,” the other girl nodded her head. “Don’t worry. I invited you. It’s my treat and my honor to serve one of our lieutenants.”

“I can’t possibly accept this. I appreciate it, but it’s too much,” Hermione objected. 

“I’m the sole inheritor of my family’s estates. I’ll spend my money how I like,” Pansy huffed. “If it makes you feel better, just think about all of my ancestors rolling over in their graves because I spent their money on a Muggleborn. It’s quite amusing.”

Hermione couldn’t help but to laugh with the other girl at the thought. “Alright, but I will be paying you back.”

“No you won’t. But you can help me pass Arithmancy. I hate it,” Pansy said dramatically. She approached the witch working behind the counter and made arrangements to have everything boxed and spelled to shrink. “We’ll be picking it up after her hair appointment.”

She practically ran out of the shop as Hermione followed behind her protesting. “I don’t have a hair appointment, Pansy.”

“Yes, you do,” she called as her heels clicked against the cobblestones. “Trust me, you need it. You just need a little haircut. Something to control those wild curls. Not a lot, mind you. Just a trim.” 

Hermione followed her into a small house that sat on a little side street. “Why am I agreeing to this?” 

“Because you know that I’m right.”

Hermione was introduced to a solemn wizard that had her sit in front of a mirror. He turned her head several ways before he seemed to come to a decision. She was turned away from her reflection while he worked on her hair. She was doused, combed, and cut. Her head tipped and tilted, some more was cut, and she was hit with large amounts of warm air. He rubbed a serum into her head and started styling it. When she was finally turned around, her wild, unruly curls were sleek and styled. Her hair looked bouncy and healthy. She couldn’t help but to smile. 

“Brilliant,” Pansy proclaimed. “You are a miracle worker, Ignatius. She looks amazing.”

The next morning, Hermione rolled out of bed and screamed. Pansy was sitting at her desk, staring at her with her head cocked to the side. “What are you doing here?” Hermione shouted.

“I came to help you get ready,” Pansy stated simply, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She was still in her pajamas and had a large bag with her. “It’s fun to get ready for the day with your friends.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Hermione whispered. “I’ve never had a lot of female friends.”

“Well, now you’re stuck with me.”

It took over an hour before Pansy would let Hermione leave the room. They almost missed breakfast and would have if they hadn’t started so early. When they walked into the Great Hall, several heads turned. Hermione’s cheeks flushed as she followed Pansy to the Slytherin table. She didn’t think that switching her jeans and soft shirts for the flowy black skirt and tailored blouse would have such an effect, but apparently it did.

A few hours later, they were listening aptly as Harry went over the few details that he was willing to share. He confirmed that he was arranging meetings with several vampires and goblins. He intended to host a dinner party for his esteemed guests and wanted them all to attend. “I want you all to know that my home is open to you for the Christmas holidays and after we’re finished here at school, as well,” Harry addressed them all. “Several of Draco’s house elves have been helping Kreacher to ensure that all of the bedrooms are up to standard. Pansy is lending us a few elves to assist with the cooking and prepping for the dinner that we’ll be hosting for New Year’s Eve. If all goes according to plan, we’ll be ready to move to phase one as soon as we’re finished with school.”

“And phase one is what exactly?” Blaise asked. “If I may be so bold to ask.”

“Of course you may,” Harry chuckled. “I have some things that I can’t reveal yet, but I’m not going to ask you to follow me and then keep you in the dark. I’m not Dumbledore or Voldemort. I’ll always answer what I can.” He flipped over a few papers. “For phase one, we will begin flooding the public with information about dishonesty and corruption in the Ministry. Luna has already spoken to her father and they will begin running interviews with former Ministry employees. I’ve also spoken to Lee Jordan. He’s going to resume his wartime radio show. Fred and George Weasley will be helping him. They will be running interviews as well as giving factual information about Ministry officials. I’ll also be giving them an exclusive interview about the Ministry trying to force me into the aurors. 

The main focus will be to stir up doubt in the eyes of the public. If the majority of people begin to distrust the leaders that are in place, they will be more open to someone new. When we return after Christmas, it would be wise to start placing hints of doubt amongst our fellow students, as well. It’s our generation that will make the change happen. Dennis is already working on a paper to pass around to students. It will look like the Ministry is trying to create another smear campaign against me.”

“Yea, but after everything that the Ministry said about you when the Dark Lord was coming back into power, no one will believe it,” Theo said. 

“Exactly,” Harry agreed. “Dennis will be feeding the students information about me doing good deeds. I’ll be spending time with elderly witches and wizards, making appearances at St. Mungos, helping the first years with their Defense homework. He’ll make sure everyone knows that I’m a wonderful, caring person. And all the while, he’ll be feeding the Prophet false information. Then, if they should happen to report something that’s actually factual, no one will believe it anyways. That was actually Dennis’s idea. Sneaky little git should have been a Slytherin,” Harry chuckled. 

Harry made plans for them to all meet again before Christmas and asked Hermione to stay back. When the other’s had left, leaving her alone with Harry and Draco, Harry smiled at her. “Your new look suits you,” he said simply. “I wanted to ask you something. I realised that I didn’t offer to Mark you, but it’s not because I didn’t want to. I wanted you to have the choice and after what Bellatrix did to your arm. I’ll do it if you want, but it’s entirely up to you.”

Hermione took the hand of her best friend. They were the only family each other had left. “I’ll give it serious thought, Harry,” she assured him. “I’ve never really thought about having more power so I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

Harry squeezed her hand, “Take all the time you need. Let me know what you decide.”


End file.
